


Who Are You?

by nickyz



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Reminiscing, nagito has some stuff he needs to work through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickyz/pseuds/nickyz
Summary: after an incident at the party, nagito and hajime end up sharing a cabin together. things only get more complicated once they wake up.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito (mentioned)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 302





	Who Are You?

It was a very eventful night at the, in Nagito’s opinion, horribly named  _ Titty Typhoon, _ as the fifteen of them celebrated one year of living on the island they decided to call home. It was a bit of a strange choice, really, to live where you were once forced to participate in a game of slaughter, but it's not as if the former Remnants of Despair had anywhere else to go. The world, completely understandably, hated them- shunned their existences. So living amongst only themselves on a secluded island where they couldn't bother anyone else for the rest of their lives was the best option.

Ibuki was the one who started the idea of having an annual celebration of the killing school trip, which sounds strange, but it truly wasn't. That incident saved them from despair, and returned them to their former selves… as close as they  _ could _ be to their former selves at this point, at least. So here they all were, drinking and dancing, listening to the Ultimate Musician herself. Ibuki had actually gotten a lot better since their last gathering at this music venue, settling into a few genres that she liked. It was all part of becoming normal people again.

Peko and Fuyuhiko sat together at the bar where Nekomaru was the one preparing drinks for them all. He insisted that drinking wasn't his thing, being an athlete and all, but that fact hadn't stopped Akane from slamming back so much alcohol that she was now passed out on a couch in a corner of the venue. Next to her, sitting upright, Mitarai was also asleep. Though, he had a pillow from the couch placed behind his head, so he was at least comfortable. Nagito knew pretty easily who had done that for him, it was sweet, really.  
  
Everyone present was also far from their normal attire- Ibuki had insisted they liven up a bit for the occasion, which basically meant make sure you look like you're going to a rave or mosh pit. So that's what they did, some better than others. Sonia had of course gone all out, researching traditional ‘Japanese Rave Attire’ and constructing a complex outfit all on her own. Ibuki loved it, so Sonia considered it a job well done. She made some things for Gundham to wear too, which the man did with little complaint because, well… no one could ever turn down Sonia.

Nagito turned away from his people-watching, honestly one of his favorite hobbies, to stare down at the bar counter below him. Bright glowy bracelets lined his bare arms, as his jacket was tied around his waist. He had almost nothing flashy he could have worn, so his best option was to look casual. Thankfully, Hiyoko and Mahiru stopped him as soon as he walked in and loaded him up. The two passed out glow sticks among other things to pretty much every person there, even Nekomaru had some around his neck. Nagito wondered how they managed to fit him.

Speaking of Nekomaru… he was right in front of Nagito's face, wasn't he? Nagito pulled back a little, completely unaware someone had been trying to get his attention.

"So you finally noticed me!! Is it too dark in here? Maybe I should get me some more of these glowy-sticks…" 

"No, no, I'm just easily distracted in places like this." Nagito said with a small smile.

Nekomaru glanced over to Peko and Fuyuhiko, as Peko was throwing herself all over her young master. Nagito tried not to follow his look. They deserved their privacy.

"I can definitely see that!" Nekomaru laughed a boisterous laugh, slamming the bar counter so hard Nagito felt himself vibrate from toe to head. "Everyone's gettin' pretty riled up, yeah? I had to knock Akane out myself before she did something crazy!"

" _ You _ knocked her out? I thought it was the alcohol…"

"Nahh, I bopped her on the head. She  _ was _ way too drunk, though! 'Cause if she were coherent, I woulda missed!!"  
  
"Of course." Nagito watched her sleeping body and fucking hoped Nekomaru hadn't given her a concussion. Mikan was having too much fun trying to climb on-stage to come tend to a patient in need.

"You haven't had anything yourself, y'know. Lighten up a little! The killing's over!" Nekomaru slapped his shoulder so hard that Nagito was sure he felt a bone pop out of place. Which he quickly and subtly popped back. He had a very high pain tolerance.

"I don't really drink…" Nagito stared as Nekomaru poured him something anyways. "I'm sick enough as it is. Who knows how I would react."

"Show some spirit!!" Nekomaru put the glass down and Nagito was amazed the force didn't shatter it. "You're a light-weight, so what? We all came here to have a good time! If anything happens, we've got the Ultimate Nurse right over there!!" 

Said Ultimate Nurse was currently preoccupied with clinging onto Ibuki's legs as she danced around the stage. 

"...We sure do." Nagito sighed and picked up the glass of god-knows-what, swirling it around. Sniffing it would probably only make him want to drink it less, so he just tipped his head back and drank it as fast as possible. Which he distinctly remembered is a bad idea if you have no experience with alcoholic beverages.

"Woo!! You go, little man!  _ That's _ the spirit I like to see!" Nekomaru cheered for him, and Nagito vaguely wondered if he would be able to return home anytime soon.   
  


* * *

  
An uncountable number of drinks forced on him by Nekomaru later, Nagito found himself stumbling onto the dance floor. He didn't dance, was far too clumsy or unlucky for activities like that, so he didn't really know why his feet led him this way. The Ultimate Imposter was putting on quite the dance performance, seemingly just as capable as the rest of them despite his large body. Kazuichi was attempting what looked like a dance battle, but he was far outmatched. It was almost comical.

Head swimming more than usual, Nagito fumbled his way through the crowd, who were focused on the dance battle and cheering the two on. He decided he might as well try to blend in there, as if he stayed at the bar the whole time he'd only stand out more. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to other drunk people.

The battle didn't last much longer after his arrival, the Imposter rising up as the clear victor. Kazuichi sulked away into the crowd, with teasing but friendly laughter following his retreat. Nagito wondered who would be up next… he didn’t picture any of them as the dancing type. 

“Who will challenge me next? Do not be afraid!” The Imposter pointed at the crowd, his proud stance unwavering. Nagito gasped as he was abruptly shoved forwards, tripping clumsily into the circle of people. He turned his head to catch a glimpse of Kazuichi grinning like a shark and slinking back into the crowd. Damn him, sometimes. Nagito held his hands up defensively.

"Sorry, sorry, that was just a mistake-" 

"Go get 'em little man!!!" Nekomaru leaned over the bar counter and screamed across the venue, which only served to rile up the rest of the crowd as they began chanting for him. He was effectively trapped. Hands shaking, he saw the Imposter already beginning his freakishly masterful moves, while Nagito was standing there helplessly, legs bent slightly at the knee to keep his balance. As much as he didn't want to dance… everyone was watching. So, anticipating the inevitable, he went to make his first move.  
  
And then a stage light fell, barely missing both of the people in the circle.

The crowd stepped back with a unified gasp, with those near the Imposter immediately checking to see if they were okay as they fell backwards. He was sure he was being worried over too, judging by the hard grips manifesting on his shoulders and the voices trying their best to reach his ears, but he registered none of it. He was staring helplessly as the stage light began to catch fire, knowing this was  _ all his fault.  _ He threw himself away from whoever was making an attempt to comfort him, sprinting with newfound sobriety to where he knew a fire extinguisher was kept. He was the only one that noticed the flames in their early stage, and now that they were growing larger, the venue was descending into a panic. 

Nagito wasn't paying attention to anything except the rising inferno, and he braced himself as he pulled to release the contents of the extinguisher onto it.

Nothing came out.

It felt like the floor was crumbling beneath him as he tried desperately to get it to work, he  _ knew _ it was brand new and fully functional, but it just  _ refused. _ He really  _ hated _ his talent.

It was then that Mikan, holding a large jug of water she'd stolen from the bar to put out the fire, ran right into him. They both fell to the floor, the water in her hands flying into the air and spilling onto the fire. It realistically should not have been enough to stop a fire of that size, but of  _ course _ it did anyways. While Nagito simply landed hard on his ass, Mikan had ended up in a rather revealing position that Mahiru was quick to get her out of. 

It was pure silence, aside from the last hisses of the dying blaze and Mikan’s whimpering. Ibuki was no longer playing her music, the dance party was over and the crowd was dispersed around the place haphazardly. Nagito remained, just feet away from the smoking light, his godforsaken luck cycle having ruined everything again. He dug his hands into his messy hair, breaking into a cold sweat. He got up and ran the best he could with several drinks still in him, out of the party and into the cold night air outside.

Suddenly sick to his stomach, he dropped to the pavement, and emptied every single thing he consumed that day. He really couldn't hold his alcohol, huh?

"Nagito?"

Nagito was still hurling when he sensed someone walk up behind him, so he couldn't have been alone for too long. He recognized the voice easily despite his overall poor mental and physical state. He forced himself to stop heaving and grossly wiped his mouth on his arm, swirling around still in his kneeling position. "Hello, Hajime."

"Are you… okay?" Hajime reached out a hand, and Nagito was hit with a bit of déjà vu. He decided to use the hand that  _ didn't  _ have vomit juices all over it, which was his robotic one, and took Hajime's offering. Hajime pulled him to his feet.    
  
“That doesn’t matter.” Nagito waved his own needs away with a carefree smile. “Is everyone inside okay?”    
  
“They’re fine.” Hajime looked him up and down. “You’re covered in puke.”

“Ahh, yes, Nekomaru insisted I have something to drink… aha, clearly, I could not handle it.” Nagito felt kind of disgusted with himself, looking this way, especially in front of Hajime. “I think I’ll go home now, since I’ve already ruined the party for everyone. It would be a burden for someone like me to stay any longer.”   
  
“You didn’t-” Hajime paused and looked behind Nagito. Nagito just narrowly avoided being run into by someone else thanks to Hajime’s reaction, which caused him to step to the side. It was Teruteru. His arms were lined with bags, presumably filled with dishes suiting for a party like this. He looked a little distressed at the two’s presence outside.   
  
“Is the party over? Did I take too long?” Teruteru sighed heavily, his whole body seeming to deflate. “And I made such tasty food, too…”   
  
“No, it’s still going. You came at a great time.” Hajime stepped out of Teruteru’s way, signaling the Ultimate Cook to head inside. “Nagito just got sick, everyone else is still waiting.” 

“Perfect!!” Teruteru beamed, rushing inside with a loud and pride-filled announcement of his arrival, and by extension the food, which was met with the cheers of heavily drunk people waiting to fill their stomachs. The door slammed shut, and Hajime and Nagito were cut off from whatever happened next. Not that Nagito really cared, it was his fault that the party had almost come crashing down. 

Nagito laughed, mostly at himself, and Hajime raised an eyebrow. “I guess that was the good luck.” He ran his metal hand through his hair, keeping the other one smeared in vomit at his side. “Ah, I’m pathetic…”

“You’re not. I watched Kazuichi push you into the dance circle. It’s his fault, he should have known better than that.” 

“Did Kazuichi make the light fall?”   
  
“No one did.”   
  
“Lies don’t comfort me, Hajime...” Nagito shot a more serious look at him. Hajime didn’t even so much as flinch at the attention. “But I know you know that.” 

They stared at one another for a long moment, unmoving, both challenging the other. Nagito stepped down first with another weak laugh, walking backwards for a few steps. “I’m going home now. See you later.” He waved with his metal hand, which glinted harshly under the moonlight, then turned on his heel and began walking facing forward. 

It was a natural movement, turning to walk the right way, but to be honest with himself… Nagito did it because he couldn’t bear to look at Hajime a second longer. Hajime, too, turned and headed back into the party.    
  


* * *

  
Nagito cleaned himself up fairly fast, discarding his jacket and shirt. He had no backup jacket, but he did have other shirts, so that would have to do. He now sat aimlessly at the table in his room, fingers tapping on the wooden surface. They had all slept during the day so they could spend the night partying away, so he wasn’t nearly tired enough yet to just sink into his bed and sleep. He would have to find something else to occupy himself… lest his mind keep drifting to thinking about Hajime and drive him mad. He really hated how today was going.   
  
He huffed and pushed himself up on still-wobbly legs. His head may not feel drunk, but his body certainly did, and it really didn’t want to do any kind of walking right now. Too bad.

There weren't many places to go this late at night, especially considering he was hanging out alone, so he didn't go far. He sat down by the edge of the hotel's pool, rolled his pant legs up, and dropped only his feet in. He could have gone to the beach to do something like this, and would likely feel a lot more peaceful there, but something compelled him not to wander. Maybe he didn't trust himself to be alone in a remote location of the island, or maybe… he was waiting for something.

Bored, drunk, and a little sad, he kicked his feet back and forth in the water. In the moonlight, it reflected a strange blue, bathing his front half in an almost ominous glow. His mind was drifting far, farther than it ever did while he was sober and conscious. He decided he hated drinking as his hand reached up to his neck and rubbed the skin there, a thin line of it being slightly less sensitive and more tender. A scar invisible to the eye, but obvious to the touch. His eyes fluttered, then closed as he felt with his fingertips where metal once trapped him. Owned him.

"Nagito."

Nagito's head was already leaned back, so all he had to do was open his eyes to see Hajime standing over him. Nagito smiled wide, eyes lidded. Hajime's eyes seemed to be glowing, but maybe it was just the reflection of the pool. Or the fact that Nagito was still not actually sober.

"Hi again." He moved his feet, splashing the water around. "Is the party over?" 

“I came to check on you.”  
  
“Then you should be going now, as you can see, I’m fine.” Nagito lifted his head back up, so Hajime had to shift to stand beside him. Nagito watched him cross his arms in his peripheral vision. 

“What’s up with you, Nagito?”

“Hmm?” Nagito leaned back on his hands. “I don’t know what you’re asking.” 

“You were deemed mentally stable when you were woken up, so what happened? Why have you been avoiding me since then?”  
  
“Ahh… I see.” Nagito grinned, but mostly to himself. The reason he had been avoiding the other was kind of embarrassing, and  _ extremely _ pathetic. “Do you plan to take advantage of the saying ‘ _ a drunk mouth speaks a sober heart? _ ’ That’s not really like you.” 

Hajime’s eyes widened a bit. “No- No that’s not… what I’m doing.”

“I know.” Nagito sighed, looking down at his feet in the water. “But perhaps I’m avoiding telling you the truth?”

“Why would you do that? Aren’t we friends?” Hajime sounded a bit hurt, and Nagito hated that it was his fault. Everything was his fault, lately.

“Are we?” Nagito hummed. “You have the same memories of the Neo World Program that I do…” 

“This goes beyond that.” 

Nagito laughed, then pulled himself away from the pool, standing up. “You caught me.” He leaned over to roll his pant legs back down, still smiling. “It’s about much more than just the program.” He felt woozy, a bit like a zombie. Was it Hajime’s presence, or the lingering booze? “Hajime… do you remember the first time we met?”

Hajime looked a little surprised, glancing away for a second before looking back. “In the program-?”

“In real life.” Nagito placed a hand over his chest, digging his fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “It’s something I’ve never forgotten, you know?” Nagito stepped closer to Hajime, grabbing him by both shoulders. Neither one of them was able to avert their gaze this time, so they were locked into a staring match. “Say… who are you?”

“...What?” 

“Who  _ are  _ you?” Nagito repeated his question, sounding… desperate. “You’re not the Hajime I knew, nor the Kamukura I knew.” His grip on Hajime’s shoulders turned tight, and Nagito was certain his nails were digging uncomfortably into the other’s skin. “You’re some sick amalgamation of both! How should I feel about that? Can you tell me?” He shook Hajime a bit, smiling wide in spite of the sorrow in his words. He couldn’t stop himself, the urge to smile was so  _ strong _ .

Hajime, to his credit, didn’t react to the pain at all. “Where… is this coming from, Nagito?” 

Nagito didn’t answer that, not even hearing Hajime. “Both of the men I loved no longer exist!” Nagito began to laugh, tears filling his eyes. “I don’t know how to love you if I don’t know who you are anymore!” 

“Nagito, let go.”  
  
Instantly, Nagito’s hands lost their grip and fell away. That voice, even after all this time, was still able to command him. He shuddered a bit. He was expecting some kind of pain next, as Kamukura would tug on his collar chain or slap him across the face if he misbehaved... but that was not what happened. He was pulled into a hug, his face shoved against Hajime’s chest.

“Ah… aren’t you going to…?”  
  
“No. That’s not who I am anymore.” Hajime sighed. “Is it that hard to figure out how you feel about me...?”

Nagito laughed again, his hands coming up to grasp at Hajime’s shirt. As much as he tried to stop, so he could actually  _ say _ something, he just kept on laughing. Hajime rested his head on Nagito’s slim shoulder, feeling his body quaking with the force of laughing. That laughter must have turned to tears at some point, though, because Hajime was able to feel wetness pooling on the front of his shirt. “I’m both, aren’t I? Do you not like that?” 

Nagito finally lifted his head, his pale skin slightly reddened around his eyes and nose. A smile still stuck to his face, but it was quivering. “Then I should love you twice as much, shouldn’t I? I’m so worthless, to be feeling this way, when you are the one truly suffering…” 

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Hajime moved one hand to Nagito’s face, holding it. 

“I don’t know how I should feel about you, Hajime. You were both a talentless nobody, and my shining hope. The Ultimate Hope.” Nagito laid his head back against Hajime’s chest, filled with conflicting feelings as he reminisced about his time as a Remnant of Despair. “You were like a God. And I worshipped the ground you walked on.”

“You can’t do that anymore, Nagito.”  
  
“I  _ need to… _ ” Nagito sounded pathetic to his own ears, so he couldn’t imagine how he sounded to Hajime. “You’re everything I ever dreamed of achieving… compared to you, I am nothing.  _ Please, _ let me serve you again...” 

“No!” Hajime forced Nagito to look back up at him, and Nagito felt as though he was about to faint. “What we had before was wrong. That’s not a dynamic two people should have if they really love each other.” 

“But I wanted it, Hajime. I wanted it so  _ badly. _ ” Nagito was starting to drool at just the memory, losing himself in it, so Hajime had no other choice of action. He closed his eyes and slapped Nagito across the face, hard. The shock of the hit compared to the previously gentle touch was enough to snap him out of his daze. 

“ _ I  _ don’t want it. Not anymore.”  
  
Nagito’s smile was gone, now. “I don’t know… what you want from me, then.” 

“If you want me to want something from you…” Hajime paused. “I want you to feel like a human being, not some slave.” Hajime leaned down a bit to kiss the red mark his slap had left, as a type of apology. “I want you to be yourself for once. I can’t recall ever seeing you just be  _ you. _ ” 

“Hajime…” 

“Can you do that? You asked me what I wanted.”

Nagito leaned his whole weight on Hajime, groaning in frustration. “I didn’t think you would request something like that.”

“Well you can’t take it back.” Hajime grinned slightly, then, without warning, scooped Nagito off of his feet. Nagito protested immediately, struggling to get down.

“Someone like you shouldn’t be carrying someone like me, Hajime, I can walk-”  
  
“I  _ want  _ to. Are you going to deny me what I want?” 

Nagito was left speechless, for once in his life. Hajime truly was amazing...  


* * *

  
Nagito wasn't entirely sure when exactly he'd fallen asleep- the last thing he remembered was being carried to Hajime's cabin and laid down. Once he'd been put down, drowsiness and drunkenness hit him all at once, and he passed out against his will without even a warning or goodnight to the  _ owner _ of the bed he stole so rudely.

So, when he woke up to the bright moon just barely peeking through the blinds of the home's single window, he was completely disoriented. He felt warm, but not in the sense of just being under a blanket… and then he realized it. Hajime was in bed.  _ With _ him. Not exactly cuddling, just laying side-by-side because  _ of course _ he would, where else was he going to sleep? On the floor? 

Why Hajime had chosen to share a bed with someone as revolting as himself was the least of his issues, though… being so close to Hajime, for such a long period of time... Nagito was beginning to feel something he hadn't felt in a long time. His heart was racing like he just ran a marathon, and he shifted his fully-clothed legs uncomfortably. Hajime just  _ radiated _ hope, so much of it that it felt suffocating, but he doubted anyone besides himself would be able to feel it. Maybe fucking  _ Enoshima _ , but she was dead and didn't matter anymore, not one bit. This feeling was another reason he'd avoided Hajime for so long- he couldn't contain himself when around such a pure and endless source of hope. It was  _ overwhelming. _

Experiencing whole-body shivers, Nagito pulled himself out of bed, praying Hajime was a heavy sleeper or _ very _ tired. He dropped unceremoniously to the floor, sweating hard, and wrapped his arms around himself desperately. What a feeling this was, to be so close to the Ultimate Hope that his body couldn't help but fall apart. He really  _ was  _ pathetic. He couldn't let Hajime see such a shameless, disgusting display, so he crawled on his hands and knees towards the cabin's bathroom. If he tried to stand up, he'd only fall back down, making even more noise.

It was a struggle to get the door open, but he did after a few tries, and he practically fell into the room. He was so far gone he didn't get up to lock the door, simply closing it with his foot and hoping that would be enough for Hajime to stay out if he did happen to wake up. Raising himself to kneel instead of laying on the dirty floor, he threw his head back, breathing heavily. He already had very poor stamina, and being ungodly aroused didn't help matters.

He didn't dare look at himself in the body-length mirror in the room, knowing that if he were to see himself, he would feel even more ashamed. That shame probably still wouldn't be able to stop him, though. Not at this point. He went right to it, unzipping and pushing down his jeans, then his underwear. Not all the way off, just enough to free what was trapped beneath. Even now that he was separated from Hajime's choking aura, reality was still warped and hazy. He needed this. 

Completely uncaring that he was  _ in someone else's home, _ he moaned out loud. He covered his mouth immediately after, afraid Hajime had heard him, but  _ still  _ not afraid enough to stop the hand on his dick. His body wanted Hajime, his mind wanted Hajime… but did Hajime want him? Surely not in this way, Nagito's body was far too unsightly. Boney and pale, extremely fragile… he'd break at even a hint of roughness, even if roughness is what he craved desperately. The thought of Hajime being disgusted by his worthless body made his cock twitch under his fingers, and he stroked faster. Just his luck that no matter how hard he was trying, he couldn't finish. 

That brief moment of bliss didn't last. It was harshly interrupted by a knock at the door, and Nagito was sure his heart was beating so fast that it just stopped and he was dead now. Unfortunately not, as he could still feel the swirling pleasure in his body.

"Nagito?" It was Hajime, sounding a little drowsy. "Did something happen? I thought I heard something… if you're in there puking I can at least hold your hair out of the way." 

Hajime holding his hair... pulling on it to the point of tears pricking at Nagito's eyes… the image didn't do him any favors, and he muffled a groan with his hand. Repulsive, embarrassing, he berated himself mentally as his hand was still unable to stop moving. Not with Hajime so  _ close _ , and  _ talking _ to him…

"Do I need to come in? If you can't answer me you must be pretty sick…" Hajime spoke through the door again, and Nagito saw his worthless life flash before his eyes as the handle jiggled and turned.

"N-No, Hajime, I'm…" Nagito tried to protest, but he sounded so breathless and squeaky. It was too late to turn back.

Whatever Hajime expected when he opened the door, Nagito was certain that it was  _ not _ this. He snuck a glance at himself just before the other came in, wanting to see how horrible he looked, and it was definitely a horrific sight. Borderline traumatic. His pale skin was flushed deep red, sweat cascading down it. His hair was even more of a mess than usual, and his eyes were half-lidded and honestly kind of crazed-looking. Drool dripped from his mouth even though it was covered, staining his t-shirt which was hiked all the way up his chest. He couldn't think of a word to describe how awful he looked. Hajime must hate him now. 

"Ah," Hajime stood like a statue in the doorway, pointedly fixating on Nagito's face rather than the dick he was  _ still stroking,  _ but neither was an ideal spot to focus on. "What prompted this…?" 

Nagito uncovered his mouth, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn't just refuse to answer Hajime. He deserved an explanation. " _ Nh _ … Y-Your  _ hope _ , Hajime… It's so strong,  _ ahhh _ , I couldn't  _ take  _ it…" He whined and huffed, arching his back and thrusting into his hand. Hajime was too close, far too close, his mind was becoming mush. "Don't- Don't come any closer,  _ please _ …" 

Hajime didn't listen, stepping in slowly and closing the door behind him. A drawn-out noise tore its way out of Nagito's throat, a weak protest against Hajime entering. He sat down beside Nagito, crossing his legs. Nagito tried to shrink away from him.

" _ Hhaaa…  _ Don't look at me, Hajime… I'm  _ disgusting _ , please don't look." 

"Nagito…" Hajime sighed. "Is this another reason you were staying away from me?" 

Nagito bit his lip and nodded, the hand that was on his mouth now resting on the floor so he could steady himself. 

"I don't understand. It's not like this is something I haven't seen before." 

Nagito's whole body shuddered violently, a large amount of precome spurting from between his fingers. "Don't remind me!" He practically begged, his head thrown back so far his neck was starting to ache. "I'll- I can't… control myself, if I remember something like  _ that _ …" Nagito struggled to speak, all he wanted to do was cry out and beg to be touched, even if he did not deserve it. " _ Hajimeeee _ …"

Hajime was leaning his face on the back of his hand, simply watching, eyebrows furrowed. It was then Nagito remembered this was not the innocent Hajime from the Neo World Program. No, this was a Hajime with all the memory and experience of Kamukura. No wonder he wasn't bothered. Some of the things Nagito did as Servant were… well, a  _ lot _ more than this. He shook again at the memories.

"It's weird," Hajime said, more to himself than Nagito. "Seeing you this way when you're completely free of Enoshima's influence."

"It was never… never her doing…" Nagito breathed. "It was only you." 

"I feel like I should be concerned about that..."

Nagito laughed, his toes curling and robotic fingers threatening to crack the bathroom floor with how hard they were digging into it. " _ Mmnnh _ , maybe you should be…" 

Hajime got closer, placing a hand on Nagito's forehead and wiping away the sweat there. Nagito gasped.

"Ah-  _ don't… _ "

"You can't finish this on your own, can you?" Hajime asked, and Nagito felt himself heat up more out of pure shame. He was right. Nagito couldn't come using just his own hand anymore, couldn't come without being given  _ permission.  _ He was like a well-trained dog.

" _ Haahh…  _ How'd you guess?" Nagito finally stilled his hand, aching for release that he just couldn't achieve. He bucked uselessly into thin air at the loss.

"Do you… need me to say…?"

"Oh,  _ God,"  _ Nagito let out a high-pitched moan at the thought of hearing  _ that _ after all this time. "N-No, you shouldn't have to-  _ ahhnn,  _ I'm not  _ worth it _ ." 

"I can't watch this anymore, Nagito." Hajime was firm, and grabbed both of the other's hands, even the one Nagito dirtied from his despicable act. 

" _ Hajime _ -" He whined again, barely sounding like a person.

Hajime hesitated just a little bit, swallowing hard. That's right… he could actually  _ feel _ things now. Nagito wondered how exactly he felt. Surely not  _ attracted _ to such a thing? Nagito was undeserving of something like that…

" _ You may come, Nagito. _ " 

Nagito didn't even have time to register the words before he was orgasming violently, gasping for air, curling in on himself. Hajime still held his hands. Which was a good thing, because if they were free Nagito was pretty sure he'd be clawing his own skin off from the rush of bliss he was feeling. 

It took a long time for him to finally come back down, but when he did… what just transpired hit him like a bunch of bricks. Immediately he moved away from Hajime, pulling his shirt down over himself and lowering his head. "I- I'm sorry, Hajime, I'm sorry you had to see that, you must feel repulsed…"

"It would be really great if you stopped assuming the worst all the time." 

Nagito looked up in confusion, only to see Hajime looking slightly uncomfortable and grinning awkwardly. There was… absolutely no way, right? Nagito's eyes went lower. 

"You…?"

"You  _ really _ aren't as ugly as you think you are." Hajime forced a laugh and scratched at the back of his head. Nagito was transfixed, and he shuffled close to Hajime again, reaching out…

"Let me… please…" He could feel himself salivating again.

"Nagito-" 

" _ Please. _ " 

Hajime didn't say anything more, didn't try to stop him. Nagito freed his erection with practiced finesse, and if they weren't on a cold bathroom floor, he might have even lost himself in the memory of doing this to someone a bit different. Someone else… his hands started to shake. His whole  _ body _ started to shake, but it wasn't from pleasure. He didn't know what it was. Hajime grabbed his hand.

"Nagito, stop."

Nagito listened and sat back, still trembling. Hajime put himself away quickly, and Nagito felt terrible. He must be so uncomfortable like that.

"This isn't how I want things to be," Hajime grabbed Nagito and pulled him in close, not caring that he still had cum all over his shirt. "I'm not the same as I was. I hate seeing you like that."

"Ah… I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize." Hajime hugged him tighter. "I don't hate you, or how you look, I hate seeing you so  _ desperate _ ." Hajime rubbed circles into Nagito's back, eyes fixed on their reflections in that long mirror against the wall. "I can  _ feel _ things now… so I can say I definitely don't like you acting this way for me." 

"You don't like it?" Nagito was surprised by how much that statement stung. It was enough to get his eyes to start watering.

"I mean, you looked really… nice, and appealing, and maybe I  _ did _ want to go further." Hajime's arms around him loosened. "But not like that. That's not the kind of relationship I want to have with you."

"Then what  _ do _ you want?" Nagito sniffed, feeling endlessly like a failure. Hajime was upset, and it was all his fault.  _ His fault.  _ "How can I please you?" 

"You  _ don't _ have to please me. You're not Servant anymore, you know that, right?" Nagito tensed up under Hajime. "I want to be equals. I'm not above you, you're not below me." 

"I… I don't think I can change the way I see you, Hajime." Nagito dropped his head onto Hajime's strong shoulder. "You're just... so perfect."

"I think you can if you try. Can you try?"

"Anything for you, Hajime…" Nagito finally snaked his arms around Hajime's torso. "I'll do anything… to be by your side…"

"No." Hajime moved back and glared at him. "This isn't _for_ _me_. It's for _you._ Do you understand?"

Nagito chuckled sadly. "I've never done something for  _ me.  _ Everything I've ever done was done in the name of hope."

Hajime's expression became sad, too, and Nagito instantly regretted his words. 

"Ah, forget I said that, I'm such-" 

"Stop… stop putting yourself down…" Hajime drew him in close again, and Nagito was sure that he would have bruises from how hard he was being held. "I hate it."

Something about the way Hajime said that, so full of concern, and love, and care… Nagito felt tears slide down his cheeks. For a long time, Nagito did not cry, he had no reason to- he was serving hope, any pain he felt was all for the beauty and power of hope. But… hope didn't matter now, did it? The world was starting to return to normal and beat despair. The Ultimate Hope was right in front of him, embracing him. All his goals had been fulfilled. 

So, Nagito Komaeda cried. He cried for  _ himself _ , for the first time since his parents died. Someone really cared about  _ who he was _ , and not just what he could do. Hajime held him tight as Nagito screamed and wailed over a life filled with pain and heartache that went ignored all this time in favor of clinging to hope. It was the least he could do, for causing some of that pain.

**Author's Note:**

> my first danganronpa fic... what a choice.
> 
> edit: adding my twitter to all my fics so you can follow me [here](https://twitter.com/chaosblast_)


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